The Wyvern's Call

[Hawkins Grime]

"Orar?"

"Orar. It means thunder."

e'Drain's eyebrow remained lifted as the young Mandolorian moved a K'lor'slug against the Kintan Strider, taking the piece. This was not the first time Morrolan had interacted with the boy but it was the first time he had bothered to ask his name. The boss was making a point to ignore the child for the time being, locking himself in his captain's quarters for most of the ride so far.

"So this... verd... go-thing?"

"Verd'goten."

"Right that... What the?! How do you keep winning?"

Morrolan, frustrated, turned the dejarik board off and stood up, scratching his neck.

"I gotta go check the cockpit. I'll be back..."

e'Drain stepped out of the lounge a bit quicker than his usually cool demeanor would have liked, leaving Orar staring after him. Orar's gaze flicked from the hatch way leading to the cockpit to the engineering hold in the center of the ship. Behind the large frame of a deactivated droid, deeper within the brightly lit room, a small person peered out at Orar. Their eyes met only for a moment before the girl, Rowan Averre as e'Drain had mentioned, disappeared and the door closed the room off from the lounge.

=======

Green, green eyes. The woman was impaled to the wall by a pipe through her chest. The wookie, Chaltatha, with her black fur and half of her face consisting of overlapping metal plates, augmentation to make up for a blaster to the face she had taken years ago, stood nearby, enjoying the view of her handiwork.

CENSORED was more concerned with the woman herself though. He did not have much longer before she slipped away from him and those eyes went to waste. She gasped and gurgled blood from her mouth onto his fore arms as he held her head back against the wall.

"Now now, shhhhh. Look there..."

He looked back over his shoulder to see where the light was coming from and then back to her, amazed at how her tears glistened and her eyes shook like jade jewels under shallow, rippling water. Green, but not like her's.

CENSORED sighed as he felt her breathing quicken. He pulled his hands back from her face and wiped his hands on a clean part of her garments. Time to gather up the loot and finish torturing the husband.

=======

Grime stood before the transparent casket in the corner of his cabin. His metal hand rested against the ice cold plasteel of the casket. His blood shot eyes were reflected just well enough and he could make out the faint outline of his too perfect face. It was almost like the body within the casket, held in a state of cryostasis, was wearing the mask herself, Valeria.

She had been terminally wounded on Uta'pau. She had taken the shot meant for Grime and would have died for it. That was what Hawkins expected of any of his subordinates. And now, suspended on the fine line between life and death, she made a wonderful wall decoration.

"Boss..."

Grime turned his face slightly to the side and away.

"Boss, we're nearing Dac now."

"Good. Get your things ready."

"About the kid..."

"Leave them both on the Wyvern, make sure Rowan has Chroma ready to leave with us."

"I'll watch the Mando if you don't mind, Boss."

Grime growled, stopping midway as he caught blood in his throat.

"Fine... But on a few conditions..."

=======

The Black Wyvern rested on the docking pad in the outer skirts of the Port Sector. Rowan Averre was staring out at the vast ocean beyond the cockpit of Grime's ship. Her gaze turned to the towering, floating city before her. Needless to say, for a girl who had lived in the slums of Iziz on Onderon, this was one of the finest views she had and would ever see in her life.

She could also see the rest of the crew as they headed into the city.

e'Drain led the way, his pilot goggles down over his eyes as the ocean air gusted around them. Orar was next. Grime had refused to allow him to go out in signature Mandolorian garb but just a body glove with some adjustable armor plates. The boy had also covered himself in a brown shroud, covering the surprising amount of weaponry that e'Drain had seen him take.

Grime walked behind them slowly, his armored body covered beneath his night black cloak, the wide brimmed hat shading his pale face and eyes from the sun. Chroma clunked along behind them all, a formidable sight if not odd for the blond mop of hair the droid wore on its head and the large industrial trench cloak it wore.

The floating city, as magnificent as it seemed was more of an annoyance than anything else as Grime glared up at it. This was only one of many and just the tip of the iceberg in his hunt for De'Ville on this disgusting paradise of a planet. Hawkins would rather be in the desert.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Working with SpecForce was a compilation of moments of exhilaration between sessions of boredom. She'd learned the codes and signals quickly, a side effect of being taught by a maniac was becoming adept at assimilating new information on the fly. She fit in well enough with her team - just enough not to raise suspicion, but not enough that the others wanted to hang out with her at a bar on off days.

Akasha had been in contact with her a few times. Lilaena still had to figure out how to get her and her Jedi master to the planet Callidus had in mind, but a plan was beginning to take shape. But overall, boredom ruled most of her days.

She stopped mid-step in a hallway between the mess and her quarters, a mouse droid nearly running up her leg at the suddenness of her stop, and then resumed her walk to her room. Lilaena packed a holdall, slung it over her shoulder, and headed to the speeder pool to check out a vehicle for the day. From the feel of it, an old acquaintance had stopped by, somewhere in Foamwander City.

[Hawkins Grime]

They walked through what was the closest thing to a bazaar in such a fine and sophisticated area of the Mon Calamari. e'Drain was surprised at the young Mandolorian's ease with which he moved about. He thought he might have seen just a moment of awkwardness before the lad adapted as if the bustling traffic of people was just like moving through the Wilds of Iziz.

Grime's eyes darted from side to side; the crowds gave them a wide berth, especially as soon as they saw Chroma picking up the rear of their entourage. In such a refined place as this, Hawkins knew he'd few answers but their presence would spread the word enough. He needed to send something of a signal that De'Ville might notice and hone in on.

The group turned after some time into a port bar, The Foam Lily. They took up a corner where they could see into the back of the establishment but were close enough to the entrance.

"Plug Chroma in..."

"Going somewhere, Boss?"

Snake like cords slipped from underneath the trench coat to an uplink console nearby, another consideration they made when choosing their seating. Of course, that meant they had a blind spot on the other side of the bar, but e'Drain accepted the risk. The circumstances did not call for impenetrable security.

"I'm taking the kid with me, you stay here. Buy drinks. Wait."

"No problem with that."

"No gambling. Don't have a tab when I get back..."

Orar watched them both intently as they spoke and quietly followed behind Grime as they made their way out of the bar and back into the stream of people moving outside.

=======

Knock, knock

The door slid open and the droid that had answered the door did not have the chance to respond before the red blade of CENSORED's weapon had decapitated it. The head popped up and was caught in the lithe hands of Chaltatha while CENSORED caught the body before it could make any sound falling to the ground.

"CX2? Who was at the door?"

The man turned the corner in his own house just as Chaltatha pulled the trigger on her net gun.

"Really. This is like shooting fish in a barrel, Chaltatha."

She gave a low chuckle before following him in.

=======

It had taken a bit of time to navigate their way there but Grime and Orar stood on the edge of the dorms and habitats closest to the Port Sector of Foamwander City. They actually sat, with their backs against a wall, facing out against the horizon of the ocean.

"War... exists in many forms. As you know it, soldiers and warriors marching together and against each other, that is not my kind of war. My war is against the silence... I am a soldier on the side that refuses to roll over like these people have. They are..."

Grime seized up for a moment, fighting back a cough that had crawled up his throat like biting spiders in his esophagus.

"They are the enemies. All of them. All of them who never had to struggle. All of those who never lifted a finger in the war of life but expected to reap all the benefits..."

He was rambling. This child knew the struggle. He knew the fighting. But did he know what it was really about? The Mandos worshiped war. They appreciated strength and power. They didn't strike from the darkness into the darkness like Grime did.

"Haatyc or'arue jate'shya ori'sol aru'ike nuhaatyc" (Better one big enemy that you can see than many small ones you can't.)

Hawkins pulled himself out of his mental trappings and glanced over to the boy, wishing he could strangle the thing. Tan skin, shaved head, little space monkey. The Mando way was chiseled into this boy. Bretak wanted him to go out and see the galaxy. Grime would show him the galaxy, he'd chisel the way of A'den right into the boy's very core.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

She found herself wandering the Port Sector, her sense of her one-time student fading in and out until it disappeared all together. Frustrating was one word for it.

Lilaena turned about, then picked a bar at random and walked into it. Perhaps the Force would bring them together. Perhaps he was going to try to kill her finally. She was thirsty.

The bartender looked at her a bit funny when she ordered tea, and shook his head. She changed the order to beer, accepted the light amber liquid and stared at the bubbles for a moment or two. Sipping it, she suddenly had the awareness that she was being discretely watched by someone in the bar. Not Grime.

Her hand strayed nearer to her blaster, worn openly over her uniform, but she didn't grasp it. Rolling her neck to work out the kinks, she turned around to survey the rest of the bar and locate whoever had her under surveillance.

[Hawkins Grime]

Chroma, an industrial labor droid with the processing core of an assassin droid, tweaked with Rowan's expertise, made an odd sight in the corner of the room. Slumped as it was, one might at first glance had assumed that some giant had passed out after one too many drinks. The man sitting next to the giant was playing cards with himself and was on his third drink from waiting when she had walked in and approached the bar. Then she turned around...

Dren...

Their eyes met for a second and e'Drain grimaced slightly as the hand he had dealt himself played out rather poorly in odd coincidence. He looked into his drink as he lifted it to his lips. Did she know him? He'd seen her from the cockpit before but then she had been in Mandalorian garb. Something about adepts, like Grime and her, put him at odds. It was hard to be ready for someone when they had... well, limitless ways to approach you. Regardless, what were the odds? And with the boss already out and about looking for her...

He keyed the silent alarm on his wrist bound comp unit under his glove casually as if checking his chronometer.

========

The slight vibration was enough to startle Grime out of his meanderings as he and the young Mandalorian stood on a balcony, overlooking the traffic of people beneath them. Orar could not have possibly noticed the alarm but he must have seen something change in Grime because he looked to him as if something would happen next.

"Either e'Drain found the witch or he's about to start pulling triggers. Or both..."

Grime thought he saw a glimmer in the boy's eyes at the mention of a possible fight as they turned back down the stairs they had taken.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

A group of off duty Rebellion mechanics walked past her on their way out of the bar, and she gave them a nod before returning to her perusal of the other occupants. Her beer sat on the bar by her elbow, fizzing silently under its layer of foam. She didn't pause to stare at anyone, just looked around the room and then turned back to her drink. She kept her senses open, wary of some sort of sneak attack from Hawkins, though there was nothing in the area that suggested there was any immediate danger.

The mirror over the bar gave her the opportunity to look at the pair that had gotten her attention, however. The big droid looked to be an industrial model, but looks could be deceiving. The man was an older male who she didnt recognize other than a vague sense of familiarity. He looked up from his drink and their eyes met in the mirror.

She winked, just to see what he'd do.

[Hawkins Grime]

Orar followed behind Grime at a respectful distance. Respectful in the sense one might keep their hands out of a blazing fire. The glimmer in Orar's eyes had not been what Grime might have thought. Orar was actually eagerly anticipating the chance to see Manda'lor and if he was lucky, she would put A'den in his place. If that was even possible. A'den was so absorbed in himself, itself. Orar was having a hard time perceiving him as even more than a person by Mandalorian standards. But Bretak, his adopted father figure, had said that where A'den went, destruction and blood was left in his wake. Orar would believe it when he saw it.

Grime kept walking, the faces in the crowds before him were just blurs, insignificants. They were nothing. He felt no pain from them. No anguish. No rage. Like walking through a canyon, and all of them were just rocks. The thing behind him, the boy. He had something of potential. But he took Bretak's words about Orar like ash in the mouth. No boy could be bled like a warrior by the age of 13. There were so many things to learn about the darker things of the galaxy that not even the Mandalorians could teach in what? Five years?

=======

She winked? e'Drain 'checked his chronometer' again, hitting a specific sequence into his wrist comp. He was trying not to sweat as he finished off his drink. The serving droid buzzed by, making a double take in which he used the opportunity to get another drink. His eyes went back to his boring card game, keeping the room roughly in his peripherals, on her.

=======

Grime stopped short as he received Morrolan's warning signal meaning that the situation was cautious. The same signal also could mean that the trap had been sprung, and since they had not coordinated any kind of ambush, Hawkins reversed the roles. De'Ville knew they were there. Maybe.

He turned suddenly and looked down at Orar, his blood rimmed eyes met the Mandalorians for a moment.

"Ready to meet your Manda'lor?"

Orar gave no immediate response and simply followed behind Grime again as the tall, black figure led the way into the pub. He refused to let A'den see the fluttering hope within his heart.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

He walked into the bar. She saw his hat in the reflection before her, and turned so she was facing him. There were a lot of people around - the bar wasn't full, but it wasn't empty either. This could be the end of her time with the Alliance, depending on what happened in the next few seconds.

He was angry, oh so angry. Of course, she'd never felt any other emotion from him, which was what had drawn her to Hawkins Grime in the first place. And he had left her. Decided not to continue his training, and following the money or his enemies to other places. De'Ville let her gaze smolder on him, his eyes hidden beneath the massive brim of his hat.

What is Orar doing with him? Her gaze flicked to the young Mando'ade, a child by galactic standards, but a man grown according to his father and the other Mandalorians. She'd gone hunting with Bretak and Orar a few times, and well knew the skill of the young man. To find him on Dac with Grime was surprising.

De'Ville leaned back on her elbows, back to the bar, her beer forgotten. It was Hawkins' move.

[Hawkins Grime]

Orar had a difficult time fighting the urge to proudly salute Manda'lor as soon as he noticed her. But there she stood, his, their leader. Orar caught himself as he took a step too far past Grime who had stopped approximately five meters away from her. She was languid, poised, a hunter watching its prey. A'den was in her trap, she would have him on his knees.

Grime's eyes shifted to Orar for a moment. The boy practically idolized the witch. Didn't they all though?

Grime refused to come closer. The woman had somehow become an anchor of which Grime, regardless of his other motives, had felt compelled to return to. One of these times, as his rage developed, it would scream to see her blood. Maybe this time. Grime liked to think he was as calculating as he might have been in another life but he knew that this was not nearly the case.

The room was heating quickly. Morrolan could actually feel the tension, no thanks to the Boss, rather than just see it as the two faced off. Was he really going to take her on now? Here? Hawkins was still recovering from his recently suffered injuries on Uta'pau. e'Drain thought he could see tendrils of heat and shadow edging towards De'Ville in the space between them. Other people in the pub knew something was up. Some of them were backing away.

Then something clicked in his head. Had De'Ville actually made notice of those mechanics back there? Who was she affiliated with now? Grime had said the Alliance... Dren, any move he might make here could mean invoking something against the ruling party of Dac. e'Drain crossed his fingers hoping for just a tense reunion.

Grime made a few steps forward unexpectedly, at least from what Morrolan was expecting. The heat refused to dissipate as Grime spoke, his slick, artificial tongue, blue and black, flicking between his ivory teeth, his tone laced with restraint.

"I missed you. It's been too long and I must say... My tastes have refined only slightly and I can't seem to get away from you."

e'Drain arched an eyebrow as he took another drink. Like he had thought before, he refused to try and figure out adepts, especially these two.

Orar was anticipating Manda'lor putting A'den on his back at any moment. The metal can of man flesh was nothing but disrespectful and he was vile. Orar wiped sweat from his forehead, refusing to allow A'den get to him.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

The air almost immediately got hot, and the room seemed to darken. The 'bad vibes,' as one of her SpecForce teammates called them, began to empty out the bar, one or two beings at a time.

De'Ville cocked her head to the side a bit, studying Grime's impassive porcelain-like face. The bartender was sweating, and decided that he had something better to do in the back room. De'Ville's face was dry despite the heat. "It has been too long."

She looked beyond him at Orar and gave the boy a nod, her fingers flicking in a sign that she had everything under control.

[Hawkins Grime]

Grime turned his head, his body forced to follow with his stiff and mechanical flexibility to look at Orar and then back to Lilaena.

"The way Bretak speaks of his son, I'm sure you two are already acquainted... or at the very least he knows you. I even think Bretak is as proud of him as you are of me."

e'Drain tried to find his reflection in the table, like when he was a kid watching some horror holovid and right before the murderer skewered their victim. And to be honest, Morrolan was not sure which one better fit those roles at the moment.

Orar fought the urge to smile. A'den looked like he was trying to play games with a drexl.

"Speaking of Bretak... He passed along your message promptly. I'm sure you're pleased with your patient dogs."

The metal against metal sound could be heard as Grime's fists clenched beneath his cloak.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

"More like sand panthers," she said. "So. Ran out of better things to do so quickly?"

[Hawkins Grime]

"Yes, I have exhausted my harem and its reserve. I've been forced to finally resort to you."

Grime felt no need to explain Uta'pau, nor did he think she would care. Revenge was revenge and Grime knew, after seeing her back on Coruscant, to his corpse's core, that she would do the same at the drop of his hat.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

De'Ville raised an eyebrow at his dry humor, still gauging him for the possibility of a surprise attack. Not that it would be much of a surprise now. "Your associate doesn't seem to think that this is a pleasant reunion. His feelings of dread are strong."

She turned her head to look at the older man and his cards. "So why are you here, Grime? You abandoned your training."

[Hawkins Grime]

"You sting me to my core."

The heat in the room was not going away; if anything, it might have been still building. Grime ignored her comment to e'Drain. Morrolan was a subordinate and need not trouble himself in an arena of which he had very little impact. He knew his place, that was the source of his dread.

"I, like you, have things to do. After I saved you and our trip to Dxun... My sources pointed to my next target. Much like you dropped the Mandalorians like a bad habit and came out to this ocean paradise."

In fact, even through all the sarcasm, Grime was just about to convince himself of how similar their choices had been to a relative degree.

Orar glared at the back of Grime's head, arms crossed, becoming impatient with the situation altogether, namely the heat. A'den, if anything, needed to learn to control himself.

"Now that it is out of the way... I..."

The mask, cool and impassive, despite the heat, almost twitched into a smile.

"I have returned... to learn from you once again."

[Lilaena De'Ville]

"The Mando'ade are never far from my thoughts," De'Ville said calmly. "They figure heavily into my plans. You... on the other hand..."

She shook her head slightly. "You lack control. This heat is useless, unless you are planning on killing my patience. Your timing is terrible. I cannot smuggle you into my quarters among the Alliance, and my work often takes me off planet."

De'Ville turned to her now warm beer and sipped it, almost turning her back on Hawkins, but not quite.

[Hawkins Grime]

Grime's fist slammed onto the counter top, the surface giving way under the impact. His lips were actually peeled back in a sneer, his ivory, slick teeth grit together with the blueish black veins of his artificial gumming showing. His fist remained in the small indent it had made, the smell of finish melting underneath it. The heat seemed to fade from the air but the counter was now beginning to bubble and pop along the entire length of it.

"You wouldn't have any plans if not for me! After Coruscant..."

Grime was not keeping tabs, he remembered Dxun. But she would not so easily brush him aside. She was right. He lacked control. Uta'pau had proven that. And it was not getting any easier.

Hawkins leaned forward, his metal hand reaching out to grab her arm. Orar jerked forward, as if to warn his Manda'lor.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

She didn't move a muscle, but either did Grime as his hand halted abruptly before it could touch her flesh. As he struggled for a moment against the Force as she held him back, De'Ville turned her head slowly to look at him. Coruscant was the ace up his sleeve, and she did not want to be reminded of it. Her green eyes smoldered as she looked at him, their eyes locked in something like a battle of wills.

When she spoke, however, her voice was soft and controlled. "After Coruscant you abandoned your training. If you want further attention, perhaps you had better beg for it."

[Hawkins Grime]

In his eyes, at this close proximity, she could see that his irises were scarred and broken with blood, like marble shattered. They had been reworked with surgery but the scarring would never leave.

=======

Hyddijjer and CENSORED stood over the body of the former comrade. The human, shirtless, had CENSORED's blood red rapier pinning him in place through his shoulder. He groaned, his hand slick with blood as he reached out, grasping Hydijjer by the ankle.

"Guula don't want you to die yet, ya bloody traitor."

CENSORED smiled, looking from Hydijjer to the man on the floor. Their eyes locked. Baleus had known the consequences of getting caught. Guula the Hutt had a special place in his massive, lard covered heart for traitors. Baleus would go to that special place. CENSORED would make sure that he never shared that fate. He put his boot on Baleus' neck, mainly to prevent him from speaking as he twisted the hilt of his sword.

"Perhaps you had better beg for death then, Baleus."

=======

The air between his hand and her skin sparked as if a flame might openly ignite there. He stared deeply into her eyes; he could practically taste the pure contempt between the two of them. He wanted to grab her arm, tear at her skin like some cloth and simply rip it off. The rage inside him reeled at her comment; it felt much like a thousand times a thousand needles seemed to push out from the inside of his body in response.

His voice became quiet too, like a metal blade being unsheathed, laced in venom. Orar stepped back some as the shadows in his peripherals seemed to waver as A'den spoke. The young Mandalorian had a pain in the back of his head that was slowly starting to grow. e'Drain felt a similar pain, wondering if he was just feeling the kick back from his last drink.

"I will put you on your knees before I ever beg for your attention."

His metal hand groaned in futility against the immovable barrier of Force between them, small flames licking along his fingers.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

De'Ville's lips moved into a smile that further twisted into a snarl, baring some of her teeth. "By simply being here you are asking for something."

The intensity of her gaze increased, as did the pressure the Force was exerting on his exoskeleton. The metal joints squealed in protest as Hawkins was forced down to the ground, his knees hitting the synthetic flooring.

[Hawkins Grime]

Blood gushed from between his teeth as Grime struggled against De'Ville's abilities. His hand, still reaching out, closed into a fist that ignited into a low blue flame. One leg shot out, stabilizing him from falling over as sparks flew from behind the metal plates in his knee. The exoskeleton was thankfully responding to his mind's demands, any show of defiance was appreciated at this point.

His eyes never left hers, blood welling up along the lower rim of them. The pale face showed no sign of the painstaking efforts Grime was making beyond his mouth being just barely open, blood dripping in a steady stream from the corners.

Orar was on his knees as well though, clutching the back of his head, leaning forward like someone was putting pressure on his neck. e'Drain was not very far from the same, gripping the edge of the table, eyes winced against the reeling pain. The bartender in the back, trying to think of something else other than what might be going on up front was holding his head over a sink, his nose bleeding.

The blue flames laced Grime's arms but they emitted no light. The darkness within the Pub shivered and tendrils of it seemed to reach out towards Lilaena.

"Keep going, witch... You've got a long way... before you might think you've broken me... Like they tried before..."

He sighed a slick and gurgling breath. coughing up more blood. The life support unit built into the back of his exoskeleton, hidden beneath his cloak began to emit a gentle warning sound.

"I ask... I asked for you..."

Hawkins anger, his rage, devoured him from the inside out as he barely finished half of that sentence. His broken and bloody violet gaze locked with those green emeralds.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

"Hawkins, if I broke you then you would be no good to anyone." She narrowed her eyes, concentrating for a moment. "As you say, it may well be impossible."

De'Ville was silent for a few moments, locked in with him as he struggled against the hold the Force had on him. "Extinguish your flames and I will release you."

[Hawkins Grime]

The flames, in blatant protest, ignited with unbridled fury going from their dim cool blue to an angry, bright red before they were suddenly extinguished. The cool air rushed into the room as if it had been holding back the entire time. The pain that the others shared within the bar was relieved immediately.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

So he had some modicum of control after all. De'Ville let go of her hold on him, and his exoskeleton nearly lurched forward at the sudden release of pressure.

"I am in the middle of a long term assignment with the Alliance," she said, as though they hadn't just been about to rip each other to shreds. "As is Akasha Khan, my other apprentice." It was a simple word, other, but it indicated that he was accepted back.

After a moment she reached down, extending her hand to him in an offer of assistance.

[Hawkins Grime]

Grime grabbed the edge of his cloak, using it to wipe the still dripping blood from his face, ignoring her offered hand with reluctance. He wanted to feel her skin. He wanted to rip her arm out of socket and slam her against the counter. Hawkins wanted to see her bloody hand prints against the walls.

He slowly stood, using a bar stool to pull himself up, the one leg completely unresponsive at this point. The warning signal was still sounding from the life support system on his back. Grime leaned against the counter, as if he were casually catching his breath and not possibly going into some sort of failure.

"I will need a small amount of time to... recuperate. My ship will remain at docking pad 117 here unless you need me elsewhere?"

[Lilaena De'Ville]

"Not at the moment." De'Ville looked at her chrono. "I have other business to attend to as well."

She studied the blood smear on his face where he had wiped up his leak. "I will meet you at your ship tomorrow night. In the meantime, keep your profile low, if you can manage not to draw attention to yourself."

Not for the first time she wondered why he didn't spend the money and get a better exoskeleton. Perhaps she'd broken it, it was making a warning noise that was becoming annoying. Although if the alternative was something like Vader's suit, perhaps the one Hawkins wore was just as well. At least he looked vaguely human in it. Which was interesting, because although she knew he was humanoid there really was no way to tell if he was actually was a human under all those synthetic coverings.

[Hawkins Grime]

Hawkins wheezed as leaned forward slightly, waving over at Morrolan. The Corellian slid out from behind his cards and slowly sauntered over to the counter without any acknowledgment to De'Ville, scratching the back of his head uneasily.

"Tomorrow night then, De'Ville..."

"Hold still, Boss..."

e'Drain made a face as he read the small display on Grime's back. The massive droid in the corner was moving forward from the corner. It had an odd mimicry of a smiley face painted on it like a five year old with crayons was responsible. The beeping noise stopped as e'Drain finished tampering with the life support unit. He stepped back, taking a knee beside Orar to make sure the young Mandalorian, who had his head down on the table, was alright. Orar seemed to snap out of whatever state of concentration he had been in and quickly brushed off Morrolan with contempt, making a rude gesture before heading outside. e'Drain shrugged and turned back to Grime and De'Ville.

"Excuse us... er... ma'am-"

"Shut it, e'Drain. Back to the Wyvern..."